I am still here. I am still pregnant. To say that I hope she comes this week is a huge understatement. My hands are slightly puffy, as are my ankles. And getting up from sitting requires an involuntary "Ooomph." Curly has begun giving my belly a stern talking-to before he heads to work each day, telling baby it's time to GET OUT. Clearly this little one listens as well as her siblings.
On tap today is to clean all the sheets and dirty towels, get laundry caught up, and clean the kitchen. And go into labor. But once the sun goes down, this little chica can sit tight. I hate the idea of going into labor in the middle of the night. It worries me so.